Into the West
by Aranel71390
Summary: What starts as naughty banter quickly escalates to immortal love for Legolas and Haldir, but will the evergrowing threat of the War of the Ring tear them apart? Yaoi, slash, minor lemon in later chapters. My first fic.
1. Mirkwood

**Prologue: Simbelmynë**

Legolas threw a saddle onto Arod's back, blinking back tears which, until recently, had been foreign to his ice-blue eyes. The added burden of the ale made containing them all the more difficult. The Elf was being rent by a new kind of grief, one he had never even glimpsed before. More than despair. It made his very limbs ache.

Legolas groaned inwardly when Gimli stumbled into the stable in a drunken stupor. "Agh, get back inside, you lily-livered pansy!" the Dwarf drawled. "Gonna kick your Elf arse…drink up, me…" Then he dropped to the ground with a low thump.

Legolas slung his quiver and bow across his back, climbed into the saddle, and took off for the fields near Helm's Deep, leaving his friends and Edoras on the windswept plains behind him. He hunched his shoulders against a nonexistent chilly breeze and continued across the plains, fighting off the emotions roiling within him as he had so recently battled the forces of Isengard.

Aragorn knew something was amiss when Legolas suddenly vanished from Théoden's hall after thrashing the Dwarf in a drinking contest. The Elf had never been one to gloat openly, but he certainly did relish the limelight. He trailed Legolas from a safe distance and speculated as to where he could be headed, all while trying to avoid Éowyn and her enamored doe-eyes. In all his travels, which spanned eighty-seven years, Aragorn had never met a more ignorant wench. Poor girl.

Aragorn watched Gimli waddle into the stable from his hiding place in a blacksmith's shop across the road. He shuddered to think of what the Dwarf and the Elf could do with each other in such drunken states. Oh, the possibilities. He was admittedly relieved when Legolas burst out of the stable on Arod's back. He watched the Elf gallop flat-out in the direction of Helm's Deep before he saddled Brego to follow.

Aragorn finally caught up to Legolas outside the great fortress of Rohan. The plains were still scarred from the previous battle, and the great pyre of the Uruk-Hai was still smoldering and emitting a nauseating stench. Aragorn watched from a windswept bluff as Legolas dismounted in front of one of the few graves at Helm's Deep. He was singing, very softly, "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping…"

Aragorn trotted toward the Elf and called, "Legolas!"

Legolas did not turn to look at him, almost as if he had suspected Aragorn would follow him. He held a small, white flower in one hand and examined it idly, turning it slowly between his fingers. "Simbelmynë," Legolas murmured. "Ever has it grown on the tombs of Rohan's kings." He looked up, and Aragorn noticed that there were tears in his ice-blue eyes. Legolas drew a shuddering breath and finished, "Now it shall cover the grave of my beloved." Without warning, Legolas fell weakly to his knees as a strangled sob escaped between his lips. He dug his fingers into some tufts of grass growing on the grave, bowing his head so he could hide behind a curtain of blonde hair. When he looked up again, tears were flowing freely down his cheeks as he sobbed at whoever was buried there, "You do not belong here! You didn't deserve this fate! Alas that these dark days should be mine! Why did you leave me?"

Aragorn immediately dismounted and held the Elf by his shoulders, alarmed to see him break down like this. Even when Gandalf had fallen into the abyss of Moria, Legolas had not reacted this way. Aragorn searched for the words to comfort his friend but could find none, not even knowing why exactly the Elf was grieving. Legolas buried his face in Aragorn's shoulder like a small child, his shoulders wracked by the sobs he had so carefully suppressed for days.

After a pause, Aragorn asked gently, "Who is buried here,_ mellon nîn_?" [My friend

Legolas swiped the tears out of his eyes, attempting to shroud himself with some semblance of composure before he murmured, "_Haldir__ o Lórien. Meleth nîn."_ [Haldir of Lórien. My love."

**_ Part I: Mirkwood_**

**1: Something Unexpected**

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, stood at the entrance of his father's fortress, ready to greet the Marchwarden of Lothlórien and his entourage. The Elvenking had summoned Haldir and his brothers to help him train some new guards. Thranduil had decided Mirkwood needed stronger protection after a company of Dwarves and a single Hobbit had stumbled into the middle of one of his late-night parties. Legolas and Haldir had been friends as small Elflings, but he could hardly picture his face after so many eons apart. He vaguely remembered Haldir being bossy.

A soft rustling of leaves alerted the princeling to the presence of the Lórien Elves. Several silver-clad Elves stepped out of the trees, bows slung over their shoulders. A tall, handsome Elf near the front of the group stepped forward and said in a honey-smooth baritone, "Hail, Legolas Thranduilion."

Legolas was about to reply when the Marchwarden kissed him lightly on both cheeks, apparently Lórien custom. He was embarrassed to feel a tinge of color creep into his cheeks. The princeling blinked, flabbergasted, before replying, _Mae govannen, Haldir o Lórien._" [Welcome, Haldir of Lórien.

"I hear your father wishes me to train his guards," Haldir said. He wore a self-assured smirk, apparently well aware of precisely how handsome he was. After a beat, he added evenly, "It seems they find it difficult to imitate your dramatically heroic style and jaw-dropping stunts. Perhaps something a little more…controlled will be more to their taste."

Legolas scowled, taking an instant dislike for the arrogant Marchwarden. "It is well-known in every Elven kingdom that no one is a better warden than you, Haldir," he said with mock-reverence.

The corners of Haldir's mouth twitched upward in a half-smile. "I regret to inform you that nobody at Caras Galadhon knows your name. Save the Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, and myself, that is. Pity." His smirk grew, and he touched Legolas's cheek briefly. "If only they knew what a handsome face you have, hmm?"

A nervous smile flickered across Legolas's face. "Come with me. My father is waiting."

Legolas watched Haldir train a pair of young Elves from the vantage point of a tree branch. It soon became clear that Haldir was one of the most skilled Elves in Middle Earth. He had spent hours earlier that morning trying to help the new guards perfect their aim with a bow, to no avail. Legolas watched shot after shot sail to the exact center of the targets that had been painted on a few trees. The new guards, sadly, were not so blessed. The Marchwarden's exasperation steadily mounted until he gave up on the archery lesson and moved on to hand-to-hand combat—an even more impressive display.

"I am a hypothetical intruder," Haldir announced, whipping a sleek blade out of the sheath at his hip. He examined the foible of the sword idly as he instructed, "Kill me."

The two young Elves struck at once, going at Haldir from both sides. Legolas found himself worrying whether the blades had been dulled for practice or whether Haldir simply doubted the new guards' skill that much. Apparently, it was the latter.

In one fluid motion, Haldir parried the first attack, knocked the sword out of the other Elf's hand, and returned to relieve the first Elf of his sword. He caught one sword midair before it fell and rested the point in the dirt, making _tsk_ing sounds under his breath. "A valiant first attempt," he conceded, "but nevertheless you have both been disarmed and slain, and it will be up to me to inform your mothers of such." He tossed the sword back to its owner. "Another try. For the love of Eru, you're fighting just like that hot-headed prince of yours. This time, don't be so erratic."

Legolas's heart skipped a beat. Did he say _erotic_? Oh, no, it was _erratic_. The arrogant thread in Haldir's voice had distorted the word.

In the blink of an eye, the Elves were sparring again. Haldir's cloak swirled around his body, concealing his tactics. He moved gracefully, smoothly, as if he were dancing. When the silver billow settled around Haldir's ankles, the points of both swords were embedded in the dirt.

The drill went on for several more hours. Miraculously, Haldir lost none of his regal demeanor or impeccable composure. The Marchwarden's cloak billowed dramatically around his legs whenever he moved, and his hair remained neatly braided, not a hair out of place. Haldir's face showed none of the exhaustion the other two Elves exhibited, nor did his sculpted features betray any of the exasperation he must have felt.

Finally, it seemed Haldir had had enough. He threw down his sword and grabbed both guards by the napes of their necks, causing them to crumple and drop their swords for the umpteenth time. "I think that's enough for one day," he said, raising one eyebrow as he glanced from Elf to Elf. "You two are too exhausted at this point to put forth any real effort, anyway. Rest up. I look forward to creaming you again tomorrow."

The young Elves shuffled off, tired and dejected. Legolas was instantly out of his tree, his own twin knives in his hands. "Well done, Haldir," he praised. He pointed at the Marchwarden with one knife. "I would have never guessed you would shoot so well. And you have some skill with a blade?"

Haldir flashed a coy simper at the princeling and ran his sword along the edge of Legolas's dagger, producing a harsh hiss of steel on steel. "Only a little," he said with what Legolas knew was false humility.

Legolas deflected Haldir's sword with a flick of his wrist. "Oh, more than that," he said, advancing on the Elf with an attack of his own. "There surely can't be a better swordsman in Lórien."

Haldir glanced at the knives in Legolas's fists. "I would return the compliment, but I'm afraid you only work in smaller units. Although," he said thoughtfully, thrusting his sword at Legolas's chest, "I suppose it does merit some praise, faint though it may be. I'm curious; is it hard to get the job done with something so small?"

Legolas stopped the sword short by crossing his knives, then drove Haldir backward with a few graceful attacks, spinning as he performed a several backhanded strikes in a row. He jabbed the point of one knife at Haldir's chin and confessed, "Only a little."

Haldir took advantage of the princeling's dizziness, stepping forward and tripping Legolas as he tried to backpedal with a well-placed leg behind his opponent's foot. He caught Legolas as he fell and pinned him against a nearby tree. "Oh, I think it hinders you more than a little," he murmured, neatly plucking both knives from Legolas's fists. Legolas's breath caught in his throat when Haldir bent closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Legolas kissed back without meaning to, then pulled out quickly in a sudden panic, conking his head against the tree behind him. Haldir was grinning naughtily at him, no doubt getting some cruel satisfaction from the dozen or so shades of red blazing in the princeling's cheeks. Legolas tried to seem unfazed as he said sternly, "You cheated."

"I'm afraid we Lórien Elves do not live by the same strict moral regimen as you Sindarin," Haldir said, still grinning wickedly.

Legolas wiped his lips with the back of a shaking hand, his heart still hammering in his chest. "Obviously!"

Haldir returned the knives. "I must admit I hadn't expected you would fight so well. Especially with twelve-inch knives."

Legolas found himself smiling. He knew that it was the closest thing to a compliment Haldir coud bring himself to give. There were a million confessions Legolas wanted to give, but instead he offered a weak reply: "_Hennaid_" [Thanks.

Haldir slipped his sword back into his sheath and turned to go, chuckling softly to himself. "Ah, but I know you enjoyed it."

"It was…different. Very unexpected. But I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you."

There was that arrogant smirk again. "I was talking about the fight."

**2: The Marchwarden at Leisure**

Haldir ate breakfast with his brothers, Orophin and Rúmil, in the honorary chambers Thranduil had given them. Haldir generally considered his siblings smaller, uglier, less talented versions of himself. Orophin had a horse-face and Rúmil…Rúmil just looked like a woman. And not even a She-Elf; an ugly fishmongering human woman. He fought to suppress a snide smirk as Orophin struggled with his roll.

"Having some trouble there, brother?" Haldir asked.

"No," Orophin snapped.

"How's the training going, by the way?" Rúmil inquired, attempting to avoid tableside conflict.

Haldir snickered. "You have never seen a more disorganized bunch. If Mirkwood's other wardens fight anything like the two I worked with yesterday, the three of us could overtake Thranduil's kingdom in one night. They all move so loudly anyone could shoot them in the dark."

"I take it we will be in Mirkwood for awhile, then," Rúmil reasoned, sounding a little crestfallen.

"As long as Prince Legolas can stand to have us around," Haldir answered.

Orophin gave him a sidelong look. Haldir knew both of his brothers were all too aware of exactly what he had been up to, but it did not faze him the way it once had. He was the third most powerful Elf in Lórien; a few disapproving murmurs from his brothers would not topple his pedestal.

"Anyway," Haldir continued, slouching easily in his chair, "I think they need someone closer to their own ability to teach them. You two would work splendidly; you can fumble around together like beggars in the dark. It might be fun. Statistically, one side should prevail over the other."

Orophin scowled openly, but Rúmil maintained his stoic composure and said, "Of course, brother. You deserve a break. I'm sure the greenlings are exasperating."

"You have no idea."

"Bet Legolas is exasperating too," Orophin said under his breath.

Haldir slammed both fists on the table and stood abruptly. "_No __dhínen_[snp1 " he snarled. "I'll have none of your innuendo here, of all places, Orophin. As your elder brother and military superior, I order you to assume duty. I'll be bathing if you need me. You would be wise not to disturb me."

"He's been looking for you, you know," Rúmil told him, lowing his voice as if it were some big secret. Haldir had known it for hours.

Haldir sauntered haughtily toward the door. "Ha! If he wants me, he can come and find me."

"And I'm sure he will," Orophin mumbled.

Haldir laughed inwardly when Rúmil slugged Orophin in the shoulder, causing the middle brother to yell, "Ow! Rúmil! That _hurt!_"

"You deserved it, Orophin," Haldir called over his shoulder as he left.

Legolas knocked tentatively on the door of Haldir's room, knowing he was about to err disgracefully. There was no response. He wondered apprehensively whether Haldir had somehow passed him and was already working with the guards. No, Legolas would have seen him on the road; Haldir probably did not even know another way to the clearing where the wardens sparred. He knocked again with greater resolve.

A dramatic sigh, then, "Must I do _everything _mysef?"

Legolas licked his lips anxiously, not sure what to do. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked again, a little more insistently this time.

"Piss off or I'll shove an arrow up your ass!" Haldir yelled from within.

"Haldir?"

The door swung open just as Legolas raised his fist to knock again. Haldir stood in the threshold, his wet hair plastered to his head. Legolas was surprised to see that the regal air surrounding the Marchwarden was not dimished by the fact that he was clad in nothing but a pink towel that sat dangerously low on his hips. Haldir's face brightened and he said, "Ah, Legolas. Come in."

Come _in? _Into the bathroom? While Haldir was _in_ it? It was very, very wrong, but…yes, please!

Legolas seated himself on a small chair in the corner of the room, gaping at the nearly-naked Haldir perched on the edge of the tub. Beads of water ran down his well-muscled arms and chest to be absorbed by the towel that was barely around the Lórien Elf's waist. Legolas gulped, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"So," Haldir began, "what service can I do for you, my lord?" Noting the princeling's silence, Haldir flashed his trademark coy smirk and added, "Or have you only come here to look at me?"

"I…oh. I'm sorry, Haldir. I just—never mind."

"No, really," Haldir persisted, his smirk growing, "what was it you wanted?"

Legolas panicked, suddenly realizing he had not come armed with anything to say to the Marchwarden. "I…I wanted to tell you that you…you're very hands—handy! Yes, very handy. You are working miracles with my father's guards. I'd just like to say I love your…method."

Haldir rested his chin in one hand, his eyes gleaming feistily. "Right. I am flattered, my lord. It is an honor to serve the Lords of Mirkwood."

"So…pink?" Legolas asked, gesturing at the towel.

Haldir pouted a little. It made Legolas's pulse quicken. "Do you have a problem with pink?"

"What? No! No, of course not. It just seems a little…"

This time, Haldir actually laughed out loud. "I know. The preconceptions of ignorant clods mean little to me. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to continue my bath. Rest assured that I will not remove this towel until you are well out of the room. I am no manwhore."

Legolas swallowed a rebel laugh. "Comforting. I shall leave you to your bath, then."

"I am sure our paths will cross again, unintentionally or otherwise."

Legolas smiled shyly. "I'm sure they will."

Legolas lingered for a minute outside the door, still smiling. He could just barely make out the gentle sound of the water slopping in the tub as Haldir climbed back into it. "If my brothers ask for me, tell them I am dead!" Haldir shouted.

**3: Nothing to Forgive**

Legolas sat cross-legged in the middle of the clearing where the wardens sparred, staring through the hole in the leaves at the limitless night sky above Mirkwood. The thick canopy above generally made stargazing virtually impossible, but the stars could always be seen from the clearing. Needless to say, the sight of thousands of stars in the sky mesmerized the Elvish prince. At the same time, the vastness of it all made him feel profoundly lonely. Very small.

The sound of Haldir's voice behind him almost made him jump out of his freshly-exfoliated skin. "Are you a stargazer, Legolas Thranduilion?" he asked him.

Legolas whirled around—not an easy feat when sitting cross-legged. For a rare moment, he lost his balance and ended up in a tangled knot on his side. He felt his cheeks flush as he answered quickly, "No, I just never see the sky. I mean, the stars are beautiful, and I do like to gaze—I don't do this normally, I mean, but I…yes."

Haldir chuckled and sat next to him. "Such an eloquent Elf," he mocked. His face softened visibly. "But you seem troubled by something. Are you alright?"

Legolas blinked, snapping back to reality. "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine."

"You can tell me, you know."

"I know. I just…I do not like to think about it."

Haldir put a hand on his shoulder. Legolas was surprised by the shiver that went up his spine. "I understand," he said softly.

Legolas shook his head, as if he were trying to rid himself of a headache or a naughty image of Haldir in his pink towel. "I need a drink."

"No. No, you don't."

"But I'm thirsty," Legolas whined.

A look of alarm crossed Haldir's handsome features as he prepared to give the same mothering speech with which he often browbeat Orophin and Rúmil. "Drinking ravages the body and slows the mind. Do you know that men have _died _in drinking games?"

"I am no Man. I am an Elf, and I'm thirsty." Legolas leapt to his feet and was across the clearing in a few quick, graceful strides, long before Haldir could even protest. He poured some water from a silver pitcher into a clay mug and took a sip, smiling at Haldir with feisty eyes above the rim of the mug.

Haldir shook his head, gazing sidelong at Legolas as he sat back down. "You have always been able to fool me."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Legolas's smile vanished. "There is something I should tell you." Haldir sat up straighter, fidgeting uncomfortably. "The Hobbit that came through Mirkwood some months ago…he carried with him a Ring of power. It reeked of evil."

"Oh," Haldir said, sounding somewhat disappointed. "I thought you were going to say something else. We all have our secrets, Legolas. Despite this commanding aura…" He smirked and lifted his chin pompously to demonstrate. "I regrettably haven't got the courage to tell you mine." Haldir's head drooped in either shame or surrender, and his face vanished behind a wall of blonde hair.

Legolas brought his hand to Haldir's chin and gently raised his face so he could look him in the eye. He saw a gleam of something he could not name in them—desperation, perhaps, or maybe hope. After a moment of hesitation, he murmured, "I see no cowardice in you, Haldir o Lórien."

Suddenly Legolas could not contain himself any longer. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Haldir's in an alarming breach of self-control, enveloping the other Elf in a deep kiss. He heard Haldir let out a little gasp of surprise and broke off abruptly, panicked.

He felt his cheeks flaming as he stumbled through an apology. "_Elbereth_," he swore, wide-eyed, "I…forgive me, Haldir—my lord, I mean. I was not thinking; I do not know what came over me. It was not my place to… I know I have offended you. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, Legolas," Haldir whispered.

Haldir wrapped his arms around Legolas's waist and returned the kiss, gently at first, then growing bolder as the Prince of Mirkwood melted in his arms. The stars winked at each other suggestively, silent spectators of the Elves in the little clearing below.

**4: Dark Have Been My Dreams of Late**

The sun slowly rose above the rim of the horizon in the predawn hours, lighting the tops of Mirkwood's ancient trees below like a golden tapestry, little by little. It was the height of summer, and small insects flitted through the leaves, flecks of gold in a streambed. Sunshine like liquid gold steadily seeped through the foliage until the entire canopy was all awash with gilded light.

Legolas had taken a rare nap between the sheets of his bed and presently lay there quietly, his ice-blue eyes open even as he dreamed. It was the same dream as always, a stormy night in a far-off battle. The princeling awoke with a sudden gasp, jerking himself out of his dream-state in hopes of avoiding the inevitable nightmares that would surface. He took a deep breath to slow his ragged breathing and sat up.

"Plagued by nightmares?" Haldir asked.

"Yes. Dark have been my dreams of late," Legolas confessed. A beat, then, "…_Haldir_?"

The Marchwarden was sitting up in bed next to him, his arms crossed, his face expressionless and somewhat pale. He turned his head to look at Legolas, chewing at the inside of his lip nervously. "Yes, I'm here," he said curtly.

Legolas hesitantly lifted the sheet and peeked down at himself. He abruptly clapped the blanket against his chest and looked up, his eyes as big as saucers. "Sweet Elbereth," he breathed, "I'm—"

"Yes."

"And you're—"

"Yes."

A look of epiphany crossed Legolas's terrified face. "Did we—?"

"Yes!"

Legolas slapped both palms over his eyes and dragged his hands down his cheeks, releasing a heavy sigh. "Fuck."

A huge smirk grew on Haldir's face. "Oh, yes. Indeed we did."

Legolas stood facing the window chastely while Haldir hurriedly clothed himself. The princeling busied himself nervously by squashing ants on the windowsill. "I'm going to need at least ten stiff drinks."

"Don't say 'stiff.' Impure thoughts," Haldir snapped, pulling a tunic over his head.

"Impure _thoughts?_You're concerned about impure _thoughts? _Haldir! What have I done? What have _we _done?"

"What are _you _worried about?" Haldir said indignantly. "_You_ are a young prince and therefore expected to be a playboy! I, on the other hand, am expected to display something in the way of morals, especially in a foreign kingdom, of all places!"

"Morals? Who was it who kissed me in the middle of a _swordfight_?"

Haldir sighed sharply. "My intent was to tease you, not seduce you! I would not have come all the way to Mirkwood if I had been looking for mere fornication. There's plenty of that back in Lórien."

"This was all a _huge_ accident!" Legolas wailed in despair.

"Button this."

Legolas whirled around. "What?"

"Button this! I can't reach the buttons; they're on the back of the tunic."

"Oh. Alright." Legolas cautiously made his way toward Haldir, glancing at him sidelong as he might look at an enemy he was about to skewer. His fingers shook as he buttoned what seemed like a million buttons up the back of Haldir's tunic, afraid the warmth of his skin against his fingertips would make him do something rash again.

"Having trouble back there?"

Legolas winced and said abruptly, "Don't say that. Impure thoughts."

"Pervert. _Hannon le,_" Haldir said when Legolas had finished. [Thank you.

Legolas snapped to attention suddenly, hearing a soft sound in the hall outside. "It's one of your brothers!" he hissed. "Stay here; I'll make a diversion." Haldir nodded, and Legolas flew out the door.

Haldir's brother was close enough to catch a glimpse of the Marchwarden if he chanced to peek into the room. Legolas slammed the door behind him and stammered, "Oh! Good morning, um, Orifice!"

"Orophin," the Elf corrected.

"Right. How goes the training of the…um…"

"Guards?"

"Yes, those."

"Fine," Orophin answered, peering suspiciously at Legolas. "Have you seen Haldir by any chance?"

"Who? Haldir? No. Nope!"

"You need to get more rest, my lord," Orophin advised. "You act a bit…off."

"I…um…dark have been my dreams of late."

"Sorry to hear that."

**5: In the Hall of the Elvenking**

Legolas stared at his father's feet, afraid to voice the question that had been haunting him for five hours of frantic but secretive searching. Thranduil stared down at his son with a fair but cold face, like a pale morning in spring still clinging to winter's chill. He said nothing, waiting for Legolas to speak first.

At length, Legolas got up the nerve to speak. "Where is Haldir?" A beat, then he hastily added, "Has he finished training the guards?"

"Haldir is back in Lothlórien where he belongs," Thranduil said brusquely. For a moment, Legolas was hurt that Haldir had not said goodbye, but then his father continued, "I sent him home. I did not approve of his conduct. It seems there were…_other _things on his mind besides doing as I had asked him."

"In his defense, the guards are incredibly dense."

Thranduil gave his son a frigid stare. "I sent him home," he said evenly, "because I wished to end any farfetched notions of there ever being a King and _King _of Mirkwood."

For a minute, Legolas was speechless. "What? Father—"

Thranduil just stared, his gaze like ice. "Do you know what a disgrace you are to my house?" he said, his voice barely audible. His knuckles went white on the arms of his throne, and he screamed, "Do you have any _idea _what a _disgrace _you are to my house and my kingdom?"

Legolas bowed his head, ashamed of what he had evidently become. "It was an accident! A mistake! Father, I—"

"No apology you can ever give will _ever _make up for the humiliation you have caused me! I banished him from Mirkwood under pain of death. I tried to end it. I know I could have never hoped to succeed, but I had to try. And now you will stay in Mirkwood and forget everything. Find a _wife _like everyone else, for Elbereth's sake."

Tears pricked Legolas's eyes. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know you did not _mean_ to. But you _did_. And for that I hate you. I despise your weakness, Legolas." He bowed his head. "Your mother was going to bear me many strong sons. Good, brave sons." He looked up suddenly and spat darkly, "Instead I have one…_abomination_._"_

_Abomination_. The appellation stuck. At least in Legolas's mind. The burden of his new identity made him quiet and withdrawn. He occupied himself with target practice and knifework, trying and failing miserably to shove Haldir out of his mind. Soon he was a paper warrior, a machine that only knew to fire arrows and run.

The summons to Rivendell was a welcome opportunity to breach the monotony of his existence.

* * *

[snp1Shut up! 


	2. Rivendell

So I couldn't resist updating. Here she be, Part II. I'm thrilled that I'm getting so many hits...but a review would be wonderful. Please, make a starving authoress happy and REVIEW the fruit of my labor, my lovelies!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, yadda yadda, copyright the estate of Mr. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, etc., etc. Scenes from the movie are replicated as accurately as possible and are of course copyright Peter Jackson et al. It's also worth noting that "Into the West" is itself the property of Fran Walsh/Annie Lennox.

**1: Still Sharp**

Legolas pulled his mount to a stop outside the gates of Imladris, the stronghold of Lord Elrond in Rivendell. It had been centuries since his last visit, but it felt as if he had not been away so long. He gazed at the beautiful arches and changing leaves around him, somehow feeling more at home than he ever had in Mirkwood.

Elrond had invited almost two dozen others to this strange "meeting" of his. There were several other Elves, none of whom Legolas recognized. He figured they were from Lórien or something, maybe even Rivendell itself. There were a few Men, tall and proud but made rugged by too many rough years defending their territories. To Legolas's extreme displeasure, there were far too may Dwarves. Stubby, bushy-bearded gluttons.

Elrond himself greeted Legolas at the gates, looking very grim and even scarier than usual. "_Mae govannen_, Legolas," Elrond said, taking the reins of Legolas's horse. "I greatly appreciate Mirkwood's input on this dark matter. Make yourself at home; I will take care of your horse. We are holding council tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Legolas said with a slight bow. Always an enigmatic Elf, Elrond obviously was in no mood to give any details about the reason behind the council. At least he was hospitable.

Elrond led Legolas's horse to Rivendell's stable, leaving the Prince of Mirkwood free to wander Imladris. He decided to find the Shards of Narsil, an ancient relic Elrond liked to leave lying around for some odd reason. Where was it? If memory served, it would be somewhere around…

Legolas turned a corner and saw exactly what he had been looking for: a few shards of shattered steel, nestled reverently in the folds of some black velvet. The pieces of the ancient sword of Isildur still gleamed faintly in the semidarkness of the hallway, almost as if they were alive. The princeling hesitantly reached out a hand to pick up one of the shards, the very steel which had cut the One Ring from the hand of Sauron himself. The Elf held it up to admire it in the light, marveling at its beautiful craftsmanship. As he set the shard back in its place, one corner nicked his fingertip.

"Ow," Legolas blurted out, quickly dropping the shard and popping his finger into his mouth.

"Still sharp?" a familiar voice asked.

Legolas spun on his heel and came face-to-face with none other than the Marchwarden himself. "H-Haldir!" Legolas exclaimed, accidentally backing into Narsil's pedestal in his excitement.

There was the insufferably arrogant smirk Legolas had missed so much. "Surprised to see me, little princeling?" Haldir said smoothly.

"Were you invited to sit on the council?" Legolas asked, shifting his weight shyly.

"Yes. Unfortunately for Lord Elrond, I will not participate. I refuse to speak of a thing so evil." He tilted his chin up pompously. "An Elf has to have some sense of morality, after all."

Now Legolas was especially curious. "Elrond never told me what we will discuss."

"Probably because he hates you," Haldir joked. "You should have guessed. It passed through your borders some decades ago."

In a secretive half-whisper, Legolas said, "The Ring?"

Haldir smiled. "Still sharp, I see. The Ring will bring us all nothing but grief. I would prefer to keep it at a safe distance from my family, my country, and my own heart."

"I think I can handle a little grief for the sake of saving Middle Earth from the clutches of evil."

Haldir stared evenly at Legolas, his expression betraying nothing that was on his mind. "You know nothing of grief, Legolas Greenleaf."

**2: The Stubbournness of Elves**

"It will be perfectly safe," Legolas insisted. Haldir crossed his arms, not at all convinced. "We'll send some Man into Mordor—Aragorn, or even that bumbling Boromir from Gondor—and leave it at that."

"If you go gallivanting off to save the world from certain doom, you will bring grief upon the both of us," Haldir warned crossly.

"It is my obligation as a prince and a gentle-Elf to see that this deed is done. Anyone with a sense of duty would recognize that."

"Don't mock me, Legolas," Haldir snapped, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You think I do not know my duty? Do you really think that it is not painfully clear to me? I am merely trying to protect you. You underestimate the might of Mordor. I will not have it all come crashing down over your head."

"I think you underestimate my intelligence. I am not nearly so naïve as you like to think. This is not a problem we can simply ignore! It will only get worse, and Sauron's power will increase. Don't you understand that?"

"Of course I understand it!" Haldir shouted, grinding a fist against the wall in exasperation. "Sauron could snap us both like twigs with a blink of his Eye. And it terrifies me. The thought of losing my home, my brothers…you…"

Legolas put a gentle hand on Haldir's shoulder. Haldir had not realized how much he had missed the princeling's touch. "That is exactly why I have to do this. I will _never _let that happen. I promise."

Haldir just shook his head, feeling his heart rip out of his chest. Legolas's heart was obviously in the right place, but in such a state of mind he could not be reasoned with. How could he make the princeling see the error of his ways? "You adorable imbecile," the Marchwarden sighed. "How many times must I say it? If you go, you will die, which coincidentally may also be the death of me. If you will not heed my advice as a warrior, listen to me as your friend. No matter what happens, no matter how these impending battles rage, stay in Mirkwood where you'll be safe."

Legolas gave Haldir a quick peck on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "No."

Then he sprang away, smiling over his shoulder, leaving Haldir to fume next to the shards of Narsil.

The Marchwarden heard the voice of Aragorn behind him. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbournness of Elves?" the Man inquired.

Haldir heaved a little sigh of frustration. "Evidently I have not."

**3: Departure**

Haldir met Legolas with a swift punch in the jaw. "You _fool_!" the Marchwarden screamed. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"Do not lecture me, Haldir, not you," Legolas snapped, wiping a smear of blood off of his lip with the back of his hand.

Haldir paced nervously. Judging by his panicked breathing, he was hyperventilating. Legolas had certainly not expected that. His intention had been to do the right thing, not send the dear Marchwarden off the deep end. "I told you not to do this! Why didn't you listen to me?" Haldir demanded. There was a definite panicked edge to his voice.

Legolas stuffed some arrows into his quiver. "I considered your advice and overruled it because it was erroneous. What are you, my father?"

Haldir whirled around, his eyes ablaze with anger. "You brainless bastard! I love you!" he shouted.

Legolas's heart did a somersault. He blinked with surprise. "What?"

"I love you," Haldir repeated, softer this time. "That is why I answered an invitation to a council I would never attend. That is why I begged you not to become involved. That is why I do not want you to risk your life protecting a measly _Hobbit_." His gaze fell, and his voice shook when he continued. It dawned on Legolas that Haldir was on the verge of tears. "You think I am so strong, you think I'm brave, but you are sadly mistaken. I am not who I pretend to be. It is one of the many masks I wear, a necessary persona for an Elf in my position. If there is one thing I know, it's that I will not be able to handleit if anything happens to you!"

"It's too late now! I have already sworn my services to Frodo!"

Haldir collapsed on Legolas's shoulder and sobbed, "Please, do not do this!"

Legolas put both arms around the Marchwarden's shoulders and hugged him close. He felt Haldir's own arms wrap around his hips, evidently grateful for the comfort. He could feel every sob Haldir stifled against his shoulder vibrate through his chest. Each one sent shockwaves of grief coursing through Legolas's entire body. Before long, he could also feel the dampness of the Marchwarden's tears through the thin material of his tunic. Legolas gently stroked Haldir's hair with one hand, perplexed and concerned by the other Elf's sudden and wild display of emotion.

Legolas cradled Haldir's head in one hand and murmured, "What you do not realize is that I only chose this path to protect _you_. I know I do not belong in a motley crew of Hobbits, a couple Men, and a Dwarf. I know I'm not strong enough to carry the weight of Middle Earth on my shoulders, but there is no reason I should not make an effort to defend you and your homeland."

Haldir looked up suddenly. There were still a couple of tears brimming in his emerald eyes, and his cheeks were a little flushed. "I see no weakness in you, Legolas Thranduilion. Only in myself," he whispered, choking on a final strangled sob.

Legolas was unable to suppress a smile. A compliment at last.

Haldir threw his arms around Legolas's neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. The Marchwarden's lips tasted salty from the tears he had shed. He lightly traced the edge of Legolas's jawbone with his fingertip, grinning through his kisses as the princeling quivered at his touch. Legolas's thoughts raced, accelerated to a blinding speed by the euphoria he felt whenever they chanced to touch. A soft moan escaped his lips when Haldir kissed him more deeply. He submitted willingly, letting his eyes slip shut as the other Elf's kisses traveled along his jaw to behind an upswept ear.

Haldir lingered there for a moment, resting his cheek against Legolas's. "Fetch your bow, princeling," Haldir murmured in his ear. "The time has come to pursue your fate."

Legolas let a soft kiss fall on Haldir's cheek and said, "The Fellowship is departing tomorrow. We will traverse the Misty Mountains, go through the Gap of Rohan, and plunge into the heart of Mordor. And then I will return for you. Meanwhile, comfort yourself with the thought that…that I love you too."

"I know you do. Your eyes always betray that which you attempt to conceal." He gave Legolas a final kiss goodbye. There was no longer any sign of sadness in his eyes, only a glimmering of adoration. As the Prince of Mirkwood headed for the door, Haldir added hastily, "I swear to the Valar, if you ever tell anyone how I sobbed on your shoulder, I will strangle you with your own bowstring."

Legolas imitated Haldir's own self-assured smirk. "That would be the least of the scandal."

Legolas's heart was heavy with sadness when the Fellowship filed out of Rivendell the next morning. He could not help feeling a twinge of fear too. Not for himself, but for Haldir, for what could happen to him if their mission failed. He wondered apprehensively whether he would ever see his beloved Marchwarden again.

Legolas looked over his shoulder. Haldir was leaning smugly against one of the gates, the typical wry smirk on his lips. "_Namárië__ Ná Elbereth veria le, meleth nîn. Avo labo vi Orodruin!_[snp1 " he said, his eyes glittering feistily.

Aragorn turned upon hearing the Elvish, no doubt wondering who would say such a thing to one of the Fellowship. But Haldir had already disappeared.

* * *

[snp1Farewell. May Elbereth protect you, my love. Don't jump into Mount Doom. 


	3. Lórien

Hail, my readers! Part III of IV is up! I really like this one so please be kind and REVIEW my darlings!

**Disclaimers:** All characters and place names copyright the estate of Mr. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Scenes from the movie are replicated as accurately as possible (with surprisingly little embellishment, truth be told) and are of course copyright Peter Jackson et al. "Into the West" is a song by Fran Walsh/Annie Lennox (though technically songs are not copyrighted, I just thought you should know). Finally, it is important to note that Chapter Three contains lemony content, so...if that bothers you, beware.

Elvish translations at the bottom of the page. )

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**_Part III: Lórien_**

**1: Into Lothlórien**

The Fellowship burst from the gloom of Moria into the brilliant sunlight for the first time in days, but the homecoming to the surface world was not nearly as jubilant as it should have been. There had been far greater evils lurking in the bowels of Moria than mere Orcs, creatures of darkness as old as the world itself.

While the rest of the Fellowship broke down with grief at the sudden loss of Mithrandir on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, Legolas stood off by himself, trying to piece together what had happened. As an immortal creature, he was unfamiliar with the concept of death. It perplexed him. In the blink of an eye, the old Wizard was gone forever. Though he had walked the earth for nearly three thousand years, Legolas did not understand this simple end that all mortals faced.

Aragorn spoke suddenly, a grief-stricken note ringing clearly in his voice. "Legolas, get them up," he ordered.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir pleaded.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs," Aragorn persisted. "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien."

The mention of Lothlórien was a glimmer of hope in the darkness that pervaded the Misty Mountains. Legolas was certain he would find comfort in Haldir's arms. Since the day of the Fellowship's departure from Rivendell, he had longed for the Marchwarden's face, his touch, his overconfident smirk. He drew a deep sigh to steady his unsteady breathing, attempting to swallow the grief in his throat as Aragorn barked, "Come, Boromir, Legolas. Gimli, get them up!"

The enormous trees of Lothlórien were nothing like those of Thranduil's kingdom. Mirkwood's trees were black and carpeted with moss, and they blocked out every ray of sunlight, leaving the forest floor in constant gloom. Lothlórien, by contrast, was awash with sunshine, the trunks of the gray-white trees gilded with light. Legolas could see now why Haldir so adored his home. It was one of the most beautiful places in Middle Earth.

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" Gimli growled, making as much noise as possible in the leaf litter on the path. Imbecile. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell. And are never seen again."

As he had expected, Legolas heard the voice of the "witch" inside his own mind—a device the Lady Galadriel employed far more often than was necessary. "I know what it is you seek, Legolas Greenleaf," she murmured to him. Legolas tried to seem unperturbed, treading softly and confidently on the ancient forest path while Galadriel continued. "I have seen his mind. He begs Elbereth every day to grant you safety. And his prayers shall be answered, as shall yours. Sooner than you think."

Something caught Legolas's attention, just as Galadriel withdrew from his mind. A snapping twig, perhaps, or a rustling in the undergrowth.

"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox," Gimli bragged before walking straight into an arrow.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir said snidely, his honey-smooth baritone dripping with that familiar arrogance. It was all Legolas could do to restrain himself from tackling the Marchwarden with an assault of kisses.

Haldir was both shocked and incredibly relieved to see Legolas in one piece, especially so soon. When he and his brothers had heard a company crashing through the forest, they had assumed it was a stray pack of Orcs. Seeing the Prince of Mirkwood made his heart sing.

Orophin and Rúmil were quick to draw their bows on the Dwarf near the front of the line, not a plan Haldir had intended. He made a mental note to severely reprimand them later, covering the unintended blow of cover with a satisfying insult to the Dwarf race. Seeing the hint of a smile on Legolas's lips at the comment made it all worthwhile.

Haldir turned his emerald eyes on the princeling, fighting to keep his expression from betraying his heart. He stared evenly at the Prince of Mirkwood, deliberately locking eyes with him. He fought not to smile at the hint of color that crept into Legolas's cheeks, but one corner of his mouth twisted into a wry grin anyway. "_Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," _he said evenly, making a reverent and formal gesture.

Legolas hesitated for a split second, looking as if he were choking on lust. His eyes gleamed as he responded, almost too forcefully, "_Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien_.[snp1 "

Haldir cocked his head, wondering what Legolas could have meant by that. As of yet, all Haldir and his brothers had done was bar the Fellowship from entering Lórien. He glanced briefly at the princeling, the slightest hint of a smug simper on his lips. Legolas stared back, looking a little too enamored for the presence of young Hobbits and the all-too-perceptive Aragorn. Orophin and Rúmil hardly merited comment; Haldir did not particularly care that they knew of the secret affair.

Haldir then turned his gaze on Aragorn, lest it become obvious that Legolas was the only member of the Fellowship that concerned him. "_A Aragorn in Dúnedain, istannen le ammen_,[snp2 " he said, using the same formal gesture he had when speaking to Legolas—but carefully dousing the blatantly lustful light in his eyes.

"_Hennaid,_[snp3 " Isildur's heir said modestly.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!" the Dwarf blustered. "Speak words we can all understand!"

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir said icily, his upper lip convulsing in a silent snarl. Leave it to Elrond to include a rude, gluttonous Dwarf.

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that?" the mound of hair and leather fired back. "_Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!"_

Haldir stiffened subconsciously, all expression instantly draining from his face. He was not sure exactly what the Dwarf had said, but he did recognize the tone as meaning something along the lines of, "Fuck you all."

Aragorn apparently knew the exact translation, judging by the way he grabbed the Dwarf by the arm roughly and hissed, "_That _was not so courteous."

Haldir started when he heard the voice of Galadriel whispering to him. "One of the Hobbits brings a great evil into Lórien," she warned.

Haldir coolly surveyed the four Hobbits, trying to figure out which one could possess the Ring to which Galadriel was undoubtedly referring. He settled on a panicky, constipated-looking Hobbit who was staring oddly at him. Sure enough, a faint whisper of the Black Tongue met his ears as the Dark Lord attempted to entice him. "You bring great evil with you," Haldir said sternly. He then turned back to Aragorn, who seemed to be the elected leader of the motley bunch. "You can go no further," he said brusquely, then strode away abruptly.

Aragorn was instantly in Haldir's wake with a bushel of pleas. Haldir had to fight to keep himself from constantly stealing glances at Legolas, who was facing away from him, staring at nothing as he was apt to do. Haldir hardly heard Aragorn's urgent begging, despite the Man's violent gesturing only inches from his face. Very irritating. Legolas turned to glance at Haldir over his shoulder, and the Marchwarden winked as discreetly as he could.

It suddenly hit him, however, that he would never get Legolas into Caras Galadhon without the entire Fellowship in tow, Ring included, despite the fact that his inner instinct warned him against bringing a thing so evil into Elven territory. Then again, the Ring had been in Rivendell for a considerable amount of time with no repercussions…

The Marchwarden finally decided that it was a risk he would have to take. He put on as icy an expression as he could muster with Legolas so near at hand and said abruptly, "You will follow me."

Haldir grinned inwardly at the faint smile that bloomed on Legolas's face. He was instantly certain it had been a risk well taken.

**2: For Me the Grief Is Still Too Near**

Haldir led the Fellowship up a hill in the forest, miffed by the fact that Orophin and Rúmil seemed to be making a point of situating themselves between their elder brother and the Prince of Mirkwood. Unfortunately, he was forced to remain stoic, as the golden sunshine would have surely betrayed even the slightest hint of a scowl.

As they came to the crest of the hill, Haldir was elated to note that Legolas literally flew up behind him, accidentally—or purposefully?—brushing the bottom hem of the Marchwarden's tunic with his fingertips. The touch dangerously accelerated Haldir's pulse. A smile lit his face as he announced proudly, "Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn—and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

As always, the view of Celeborn and Galadriel's grand court was breathtaking—and, had it not been for the nine pesky witnesses, a rather romantic setting. The Lord and Lady's stronghold was perched precariously on a steep, rocky hill which was dotted with bushy green trees that clung to the precipices like ticks. The rising sun behind the hill lit Caras Galadhon with a golden glow, and every cloud in the background had a silver lining. Beyond the Elven stronghold, the rest of Lothlórien sprawled on and on toward the distant horizon, fading from gold to lavender to a deep blue that had not yet been graced by the sun. Through the corner of his eye, Haldir could see Legolas staring rapturously at the vast expanse before them. True, the forest of Lothlórien was infinitely more beautiful than Mirkwood, despite the fact that Mirkwood contained a dashing prince.

The Marchwarden guided the Fellowship up the glittering spiral staircases inside Caras Galadhon to the brilliant throne room of Celeborn and Galadriel. Haldir stood at attention as the equally brilliant Lord and Lady strode elegantly toward their waiting guests, hand in hand. The Hobbits seemed especially thunderstruck by the regal glow that surrounded the two Elves.

Celeborn spoke slowly, deliberately. After so many eons walking Middle Earth he had learned to neither squander words nor hoard them. He surveyed the Fellowship quietly before he said, "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." He paused uncertainly, his gaze flitting over the visitors quickly. "Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Galadriel glanced briefly at Legolas, who lowered his head sadly. Haldir reasoned she must have asked him about Mithrandir's whereabouts. His suspicions were confirmed when Galadriel said softly, "He has fallen into shadow."

"He was taken by both shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria," Legolas said, grief ringing clearly in his voice. Haldir longed to go to him but knew he could not.

While Celeborn droned on pessimistically, Galadriel spoke to each member of the Fellowship in turn, dipping into one mind after another. The whore. Haldir was hardly surprised when she decided to give him a word of enigmatic and disturbing advice too: "The more you love him, the deeper you will hurt him."

Haldir and his brothers showed the members of the Fellowship to a place where they could rest in relative solitude. The Dwarf settled right in and was snoring away within minutes. Finally, Haldir found an opportunity to remove Legolas from the presence of the others without seeming suspicious. He led the princeling behind a knot of trees, holding the Elf's hand lightly with the tips of his fingers. Once he was certain they had found privacy, he murmured, "Finally," grabbed Legolas by the front of his tunic, and bowled him over in a sweeping, theatrical dip-kiss.

"Haldir—" Legolas started to protest, but he was instantly silenced with a kiss.

The Marchwarden pressed on anyway, cradling Legolas's head in one hand while the other crept down the back of his thigh. "Do you know how I have missed you, my little princeling?" he murmured between kisses.

"Stop it!" Legolas snapped suddenly. Haldir accidentally dropped him in surprise, causing Legolas to fall hard on his back with a quiet "Oof."

"What? What is wrong?" Haldir questioned, searching Legolas's face for answers. He was alarmed to note that there were tears pricking his ice-blue eyes.

"Mithrandir is _dead!_" the Prince of Mirkwood hissed, fighting to keep his voice low. "I was eager to seek you here for comfort, not…not _this!_" He sniffed back tears raggedly. "Sweet Elbereth, I need a few drinks…"

Haldir blinked, stunned into humility. "Forgive me, Legolas," he mumbled. "I was wrong to assume… Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No. Just leave me alone. For me the grief is still too near to give you what you want."

With that, he stormed off, leaving Haldir alone and humiliated. He could hear Legolas tersely explain to the curious Halflings that the Elves of Lórien were singing a lament for Gandalf. One made the mistake of inquiring as to the translation.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas told them. "For me the grief is still too near."

Haldir crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he should be sympathetic or angry. This grieving over Mithrandir thing was going to be a definite problem.

**3: Midnight in Caras Galadhon**

Legolas's mind was restless that midnight in Caras Galadhon, even as the rest of the Fellowship—including the edgy Boromir—slept peacefully under the Lórien stars. He crossed his arms behind his neck and stared up at the leaves and the starlight, still grappling with his confusion about Mithrandir's death.

He was partly angry and partly relieved when Haldir's silhouette materialized above him. He said softly, "_Goheno nîn, Legolas_.[snp4 I…I did not realize Mithrandir meant so much to you."

"It's not that," Legolas whispered. "It is only the thought of losing someone so suddenly that frightens me. What if immortality is not guaranteed? The thought is almost more than I can bear."

The Marchwarden leaned over Legolas in the darkness, his perfectly-formed shoulders and pointed ears outlined in silvery-white by the moonlight. He bent forward and kissed Legolas gently on the lips. Legolas could feel the heat of his breath when he murmured, "Then let me ease your pain."

Haldir hardly waited for a response before he had locked the princeling in a deep kiss, forceful but somehow not overpowering. The Marchwarden seemed to see no need to assert the dominance he often strove for in the biting verbal attacks to which he had subjected the Fellowship. His touch was strong but gentle, protecting and wildly liberating at the same time.

Haldir's kisses migrated to the soft column of Legolas's exposed neck. Legolas let his eyes slip shut gently as Haldir nibbled playfully with his lips. Haldir smirked against the princeling's neck when he noticed Legolas's pleasure. He pulled back, one knee on either side of Legolas's waist, and gazed heatedly at the other Elf. The arrogance had melted out of his eyes, the judgmental and superior gleam had faded, replaced now with the glow of adoration and passion.

Hadir grinned naughtily and brought Legolas's silver tunic over his head with a gentle tug. He discarded the tunic on the dewy grass next to him before removing his own, inch by excruciating inch. Legolas's pulse hammered wildly in his ears when Haldir's chest was finally laid bare in the moonlight, every muscle outlined in silvery moonlight and already shimmering with beads of sweat. Legolas's hands moved gently down the Marchwarden's forearms to his fingertips, letting his lips linger on Haldir's. Haldir let his own hands slowly creep up the curve of Legolas's waist, kissing the princeling everywhere he dared as he squirmed out of his leggings. Legolas's heartbeat spiked when Haldir reached for his waist and brought his leggings down in one swift jerk. Then there was nothing between them but their own skin.

Legolas wrapped his arms around Haldir's neck and drew him to his lips, the Marchwarden's skin like fire against his bare chest. He tilted his head back and trembled as Haldir kissed every inch of his body, his breaths coming in ragged, impassioned pants. Haldir stroked Legolas's hair back with one hand and hooked his free arm around the other Elf's waist. Legolas arched his back as Haldir's fingers trailed quickly down his spine, letting his head rest against Haldir's cheek. He could feel the Marchwarden's hot, husky panting on his ear, and it made his heart race even faster, overwhelmed by the adrenaline and lust. He went rigid for a second when Haldir plunged inside him and released a shuddering gasp of pleasure, melting instantly in the Marchwarden's arms.

Legolas's heart leapt to his throat when he peered over Haldir's glistening shoulder to see Frodo gaping at the two Elves writhing in the dewy grass, evidently back from his late-night visit to Galadriel already. He also apparently found far more pleasure in watching them than any Halfling should have, judging by the bulge in his breeches. Legolas could not suppress a low moan as Haldir thrust deeper, unaware of the Hobbit behind him.

Noting the moan, the color drained from Frodo's face. The Hobbit slammed a finger against his lips and hissed, "Quiet! You'll wake the others!"

Upon hearing the Halfling's voice, Haldir threw his head over his shoulder, staring heatedly at Frodo as he said huskily, "You can be as loud as the hell you want when you're making love, Frodo Baggins."

Legolas gasped sharply as Haldir plunged even deeper, his attention instantly drawn away from the unwelcome onlooker. Time seemed to speed blindingly by as the two Elves were swept away in the passion coursing through their bodies. All too soon, the Marchwarden withdrew slowly, and he gradually pulled his lips away from Legolas's. Haldir collapsed on the grass next to Legolas, panting loudly. Legolas's own chest heaved, his body deliciously exhausted. Haldir turned his face toward Legolas's and whispered hoarsely, "Do you feel better now, my little princeling?"

"_Tancave, mellon nîn. Hannon le,_[snp5 " Legolas answered, still struggling to tame his erratic breathing.

A lewd smirk exploded across Haldir's face, and he and replied instantly, "_Glassen._[snp6 "

Frodo gulped uncomfortably and removed himself from the vicinity, no doubt inspired to go rape the fat Halfling known as Sam.

**4: Reflections**

The next morning, Legolas found Galadriel standing serenely in a grassy courtyard, a silver pitcher in her hand. She beckoned the Prince of Mirkwood to approach with a nod of her head and asked him, "Will you look into the mirror?"

"What will I see?" Legolas asked cautiously.

The Lady of Light smiled enigmatically as she poured the contents of the pitcher into a silver bowl. "Even the wisest cannot tell."

Legolas rested his hands on either side of the mirror and peered into it. The surface shimmered, and an image of Haldir's arrival in Mirkwood materialized. Legolas blushed when he saw Haldir give him a peck on each cheek and ducked his head quickly, hoping that Galadriel had not seen the color in his cheeks. Judging by the small smile that bloomed on her features, he had not succeeded.

Then the reflection changed to Thranduil's stern, icy face. Legolas could read that painful word on his lips: "Abomination." A forlorn, grave Haldir then filed out of Mirkwood, looking very much betrayed after being sent into exile. Legolas felt a twinge of hatred for his father flare up in the depths of his heart.

The image in the mirror flickered to a scene from Rivendell, a teary-eyed Haldir biting his lip as he surveyed the Council of Elrond from a balcony above the circle of chairs. He saw a likeness of himself stand and kneel before a small Hobbit, and Haldir turned away.

The reflection changed one more time. Legolas swallowed hard when he recognized the glade in which he and Haldir had slept rather unchastely the night before. One glimpse of Haldir's naked backside shot a bolt of excitement through his body, and he quickly backpedaled away from the mirror, feeling his cheeks flaming. Galadriel smirked at him, displaying more cruel amusement than Legolas had known she even possessed.

He forced himself to look at Galadriel and tried to tell her, "Ignore that last incident, my lady—"

Galadriel laughed musically. "I do not know what it is you saw, Legolas Greenleaf. Judging by your reaction, however, it must have been something quite entertaining. 'Tis a shame that I missed out."

Legolas heaved a shaky sigh. "Yes, it is a shame," he said weakly. Then he stumbled out of the courtyard, his knees shaking. His night with Haldir proved even more arousing the second time around.

Haldir saw Legolas bolt out of the courtyard which housed Galadriel's mirror, smiling at the princeling's crimson cheeks. He leaned against a nearby tree and said, "I take it you made the mistake of looking into her mirror. Really, really great, hmm?"

Legolas stopped short, his eyes as big as saucers. He nodded, speechless, before he said, "For porn."

Haldir chuckled at Legolas's panicked expression, wondering how many exploits he had relived by gazing into the water. "The Lady has asked me to look into it today," Haldir continued, hoping a little conversation would calm the princeling somewhat. "She rarely does that. Usually she leaves it up to my own will to examine my life. I wonder what it is that she saw." He raised one eyebrow at Legolas. "You don't suppose she saw _us_, do you?"

"That is what I saw," Legolas said breathlessly.

"Ah, and I am sure it was even steamier the second time, eh?"

Legolas blinked, a sure sign of shock. "You are a fiend," he accused, though the teasing edge to his voice, along with his sparkling eyes, betrayed his insincerity.

Haldir could not suppress a huge smirk. "Yes, but I am an incredibly good-looking fiend, aren't I?"

Legolas shook his head a little as he stumbled off. "I need a drink."

"Don't drink too much; you may awaken to find yourself between a couple of Hobbits. Frodo and Sam, if I had to guess."

Galadriel greeted Haldir formally when he entered the courtyard and gestured at the mirror. "Look into the mirror, Haldir," she urged. "It would be cruel to not show you your own fate."

Haldir peered suspiciously at Galadriel and inquired, "What is it that you have seen, my lady? What does the future hold for me that troubles you so?"

"Look," Galadriel repeated, an impatient edge to her voice.

Haldir hesitantly peeked over the rim of the mirror, apprehensive about what he would see. The water inside the bowl changed instantly into a black night, the thick thunderclouds in the sky blocking out every feeble star. Haldir saw himself in rain-spattered armor, feverishly battling enormous, brutish Orcs—no, they were somehow different, larger, stronger, blacker. He heard the voice of Aragorn, of all people, calling to him. Just when he turned to go, the image began to spin uncontrollably, spiraling madly like a wounded sparrow. Then the only thing Haldir saw was the blood-flecked faces of the fallen soldiers of Lórien, cold and lifeless.

Haldir tore his gaze away from the mirror, his breaths coming in mad gasps. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand and said to Galadriel, "You have seen my death?"

Galadriel nodded elegantly. "I have seen you fall to the iron fist of Isengard. I have seen despair, I have seen death, I have seen a losing battle slip steadily toward oblivion." She paused, releasing the slightest hint of a forlorn and tortured sigh. "I have seen Legolas Thranduilion's heart break."

Haldir struggled to choke down tears of despair. "But…will he be all right? Will he live?"

"He may yet survive the nightmare that lies ahead of him. But know, Haldir, that the more you love him, the deeper you will hurt him. You know this in your heart to be true."

"But it is hypothetical, of course. The future from which the mirror draws its reflections is not absolute."

Galadriel surveyed the Marchwarden sadly. "There are some things that must come to pass," she said softly.

**5: Farewell to Haldir**

The Fellowship prepared to move onward all too soon, spurred on by Celeborn's whispered warnings of some new evil pouring out of Isengard. Galadriel generously bestowed Elven gifts on the members of the quest.

A band of Elves also outfitted the Fellowship in Elven cloaks, and they were even generous enough to provide boats for the company to traverse the River Anduin. Legolas hurriedly shoved things into his boat—lembas, Galadriel's gift, Gimli—before stealing away to find Haldir. He crept stealthily down the path into the heart of Lothlórien, constantly scanning the underbrush for signs of the Marchwarden.

The princeling started when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm. The next thing he knew, he had been dragged into a thicket peppered with athelas weeds, swept up in one of Haldir's dominating kisses. Legolas returned the Marchwarden's love feverishly, yearning to remain with him until the end of his days.

Eventually, Haldir had to end the kiss in order to breathe. He glanced up and down the length of Legolas's body briefly, as if he were trying to memorize the Prince of Mirkwood's shape, before he said breathlessly, "You will not let this whole saving Middle Earth thing go to your head, will you? You'll still be the same naïve, adorable imbecile when you return?"

"Of course. I promise," Legolas said solemnly.

"Swear to me you will not attempt to do anything too heroic. No death-defying stunts. No swinging onto horses or riding shields down stairs or scaling large animals in a single bound. Swear it."

After some hesitation, Legolas told him, "I swear."

"Do not stray from Aragorn's side. He will protect you. I believe Sauron will not conquer him." Haldir paused for a moment, weighing whether or not to continue. "And I would advise you to befriend one of them. Safety in numbers kind of thing. Stick to him like a tick."

"The Dwarf," Legolas decided. "The Hobbits are all thick as thieves, Aragorn has Boromir, and Mithrandir is dead. That leaves Gimli. Unfortunately."

"One of the many adverse effects of being the only one of our kind on this quest, hmm? But who knows? He may not be as repulsive as he seems." Big smirk. "But I doubt it."

"You never told me what you saw in Galadriel's mirror."

Haldir sighed sadly, shaking his head. "I have not the heart to tell you. No sense in burdening you with grief that should not be yours to bear." He fell silent, listening intently as Celeborn spoke to Aragorn about the Orcs patrolling the banks of the Great River. A look of wistful sadness crossed Haldir's handsome face. "The time has come for you to depart these lands, Legolas Thranduilion. We will meet again, in this life or the next."

Legolas wrapped his arms around Haldir's waist and rested his head on the Marchwarden's shoulder, making a last effort to memorize his scent. "_Le melon._[snp7 You will not forget me, will you, Haldir?"

Haldir smiled gently. "Still an imbecile, I see. How could I forget the one I love?" he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Legolas's eyes.

Legolas felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He hesitantly offered a suggestion, desperate to hold onto what little he had. "Perhaps you could come with us—"

"I cannot, Legolas. I have my duties to the Lady Galadriel. As much as I would like to leave all this behind, I cannot." He kissed Legolas one last time. "Go back to your Fellowship before they question your absence. We cannot have them wondering where a blushing little princeling could _possibly _wander off to at every opportunity, can we?"

Legolas smiled a little. "_Namárië_. I will think of you always."

"Try not to. Obsessions invariably turn out badly."

Legolas reluctantly turned to go but eagerly stopped when Haldir spoke again. "Legolas? You may want to do something about those tears. Suspicious behavior for an Elf in your position."

Legolas smiled, drying his eyes with the back of his sleeve as he made his way back to the rest of the Fellowship.

The Fellowship paddled away from Caras Galadhon in an entrancing morning mist. Galadriel stood on the riverbank, one hand raised in blessing as the little boats floated past her. Legolas took a deep breath of morning air to calm himself. This second farewell was at once somehow easier and more difficult to bear than the departure from Rivendell, clearing the way for an even more uncertain future.

Legolas was instantly calmed when he noticed the Marchwarden standing not far from Galadriel on the riverbank, his arms crossed smugly as he arrogantly surveyed the departing Fellowship. The Marchwarden fixed his emerald eyes on Legolas and winked as discreetly as he could, a faint smirk on his lips. It made Legolas's heart skip a beat, and he could not stop a smile from spreading across his angelic features.

And then Haldir disappeared, growing smaller and smaller as the Anduin swept Legolas further away from his beloved—a study in fate.

* * *

[snp1Our Fellowship stand in your debt, Haldir of Lorien. 

[snp2And Aragorn of the Dunadain, you are known to us.

[snp3Thanks.

[snp4Forgive me, Legolas.

[snp5Yes, my friend. Thank you.

[snp6My pleasure.

[snp7I love you.


	4. Helm's Deep

Greetings, salutations, and sincerest apologies for taking so long to update. You know the drill. Read, review, make me happy.

Elvish translations at the bottom of the page. Because I'm too lazy to go back and put it within the dialogue.

**Disclaimers:** _Lord of the Rings_ and its respective characters, place names, etc. are copyright the estate of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien; scenes from the movie are replicated as accurately as possible (and with surprisingly little embellishment ) and are of course the property of Peter Jackson et al.; "Into the West" is the property of Fran Walsh/Annie Lennox. I think those are the only copyright laws I've infringed upon...cough

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_**Part IV: Helm's Deep**_

**1: Honoring the Allegiance**

Legolas heaved a heavy sigh, making a last-ditch effort to rally his hope. The Fellowship had split apart, and he was presently with Aragorn and Gimli, huddled inside Rohan's fortress of Helm's Deep, awaiting a battle which he was certain would not end well. He choked down a wave of despair as it once again became evident that Haldir had been right: "_If you go, you will die." _He only hoped that Aragorn could lead Théoden and his men safely through the night.

Legolas stood by while Aragorn and Gimli clad themselves in armor. Aragorn donned chain mail and plates swiftly, no doubt from having experienced war far too many times. Legolas handed the Man his sword. Aragorn took it with a nod of gratitude.

"We have trusted you this far; you have no led us astray," Legolas said humbly, his voice dripping with regret. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn shook his head a little and put a hand on Legolas's shoulder. He gently replied, "_Ú-moe_ _edhored, Legolas._[snp1 "

Legolas felt a pang of sadness as he remembered the night in Mirkwood when Haldir had told him the very same thing.

Gimli struggled into his chain mail with a frustrated grunt. The rings of metal cascaded past his feet and pooled on the floor, about two feet too long. Legolas could not suppress a grin. "It's a little tight across the chest," the Dwarf grumbled.

Suddenly, the echo of fair horns rolled into Helm's Deep. A thrilling jolt shot up Legolas's spine. "That is no Orc horn!" he said excitedly, dashing outside with Aragorn.

Haldir led the forces of Lórien across the bridge into Helm's Deep, wondering apprehensively what the impending battle would hold for him. He had known for days, ever since Galadriel had sent him to Rohan, at Elrond's behest. He recognized the stones of the fortress's walls from the reflection in Galadriel's mirror.

Théoden strode down the steps toward him, looking incredibly relieved as he murmured, "How is this possible?"

Haldir bowed gracefully and addressed the King of Rohan, saying, "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir glanced up, hearing some latecomer approaching. His heart caught in his throat when none other than the Prince of Mirkwood himself came barreling into the night air. Haldir grinned at the look of elation on Legolas's and said smoothly, "We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn descended the steps, a huge smile of gratitude on his face. "_Mae govannen, Haldir_,[snp2 " he said.

Haldir inclined his head respectfully to the future King of Men. He was more than a little shocked when Aragorn embraced him in a Dúnadan bear-hug. The Marchwarden stiffened uncertainly before returning the hug awkwardly.

Aragorn stood back, his eyes gleaming. "You are most welcome!"

Haldir's eyes met Legolas's then, and the Mirkwood Elf flung himself at the Marchwarden, arms wide. Haldir grabbed Legolas's shoulders, trying to communicate to him with a stiff expression that this was neither the time nor the place for a heartfelt reunion. Legolas looked a little disappointed, so Haldir flashed a smirk and a wink at him.

Sure enough, every Elf in Haldir's company spun on their heels for a better view of the exchange, curiosity sparking in their eyes. For once, it was Haldir who reddened. Legolas grinned widely and stood at the Marchwarden's shoulder.

Haldir gazed at the King of Rohan and told him solemnly, "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

"And we are proud to have such an ally," Théoden responded. "Rohan is forever in your debt, Haldir of Lórien, as well as in the debt of all Elf-kind."

Haldir surveyed the king arrogantly. "Let's not get carried away. I do not see either of my brothers here."

"Ahem!" Orophin shouted.

Haldir continued, ignoring his brother. "You are indebted to Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and myself alone." He paused before adding impishly, "And Legolas, I suppose, whatever paltry contribution he may make."

Legolas grabbed Haldir's wrist and dragged him into the Keep. "I am so glad you are here," the princeling babbled excitedly. "Three hundred against ten thousand! The odds made my head spin. Well, they are not much better, I suppose, but thank Eru you are here. I knew things would end happily somehow."

"Happily?" Haldir echoed weakly, a shadow of sadness crossing his face.

Legolas looked him up and down, the luster of desire evident in his eyes. He traced the scutes of Haldir's gold breastplate with his thumb and murmured, "The armor suits you well. Very handsome. I am particularly fond of the red cloak."

Haldir allowed a small smirk. "Thank you. I suspected that you would like it."

The princeling's face glowed. "Words cannot express how happy I am to see you, Haldir. I have missed you more than anything else. Many nights I lay awake, gazing up at the stars, wondering whether you were still alive to see them. I had no way of knowing whether you were still safe, and it was almost more than I could bear. I had almost forgotten what hope felt like. It had long since faded into the world of night, falling through the shadows out of memory and time. But no more."

"I am glad to hear it," Haldir said feebly.

"You see weakness in yourself," Legolas said, his face aglow with a wide smile. "You think you are a coward. But you are wrong, _meleth_ _nîn. _You wear no mask. You have become that which you pretended to—"

Haldir silenced Legolas in the only way he could think to, pressing his lips over the other Elf's in a passionate kiss. He buried the fingers of one hand in Legolas's golden hair, voraciously drinking in his scent. He had to pull back when he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

Legolas picked up on Haldir's anxiety instantly. "Tell me what is wrong," he said. It was almost more of an order than a request. Odd. It was unlike Legolas to assert himself so. Perhaps being around a cantankerous Dwarf for so long had changed him.

"Pay me no mind," Haldir said dismissively, hurriedly drying his eyes with a gloved hand. "I want you to make me a promise. I know you will not listen to what I tell you, but please, for my own sake, I have to know you heard it. Do not look for me during the battle. Do not think of me."

"Why?" Legolas demanded, his face wrought with concern. "This is not like you, Haldir. You have still not told me what is wrong."

Haldir ignored the question a second time. "I want you to stay with Gimli and Aragorn. Do not stray from their sides, do you hear me?"

"What about you?"

"Please. You insult me, Legolas. I am one of the Galadrim. I will be just fine," Haldir said loftily, putting on a smile.

Haldir breathed a sigh of relief when Legolas finally nodded. "Alright. But afterward I will find you," he vowed. "The instant the battle is over, I will find you."

Haldir threw his arms around Legolas's armored shoulders, blinking back tears. "_Le melon tenn_' _Ambar-metta, ernil nîn._[snp3 Never forget."

"How can I forget the one I love?" Legolas whispered.

Haldir held Legolas at arm's length, no longer caring about the tears on his face. "Fetch your bow, princeling. You and I will meet again. Now we must meet both our fates."

True to his word, Legolas found Gimli and never strayed far from the Dwarf's side. The two friends-by-necessity stood upon the battlements of Helm's Deep, watching as Saruman's black army slowly took shape on the edge of the horizon. The men on the ramparts were all deathly silent.

Legolas took comfort in the fact that he could just see Haldir through the darkness, standing among his warriors as they awaited the impending storm. His face was grim as he stared nervously at the black expanse before the fortress, searching for signs of the enemy. Legolas found himself wondering how long he would wait before he could go to his beloved's side.

Legolas had to grin when Gimli growled suddenly and complained, "You could have picked a better spot."

Aragorn appeared behind Legolas's shoulder suddenly. Gimli looked up at the Man and said, "Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

A sudden bolt of lightning lit the plains before Helm's Deep with a jolt of bright-white light, briefly illuminating the enormous expanse of the approaching army. Legolas's eyes grew wide. There were so many. They would break upon the fortress like water on rock.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas said.

"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli added grimly.

Aragorn strode off. Then another bolt of lightning brought with it the first patterings of rain. The drops spattered loudly on the armor of the soldiers, the noise escalating as the rain fell more steadily until it was almost deafening.

The Uruk-Hai crept toward Helm's Deep like a sea of ants, their boots tramping loudly on the now-wet grass. Right on cue, Aragorn began pacing along the line of Elves, instructing them, "_A_ _Eruchin, ú-dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas!_[snp4 "

One Uruk-Hai climbed atop a bluff and roared threateningly. The army abruptly came to a halt. Legolas's heart pounded, the tension almost unbearable. The Uruk-Hai just stood there snarling at the warriors in the fortress above them, locked in a deadly staring contest.

Jumping up and down, Gimli demanded, "What's happening out there?"

Legolas grinned impishly. "Shall I describe it to you, or would you like me to find you a box?"

**2: Into the West**

Haldir's heart started hammering wildly when the Uruk-Hai started stamping their spears on the ground—psychological warfare, no doubt conceived by the White Wizard himself. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself from descending into panic. He and the other Elves readied their bows.

Aragorn snapped, "_Dartho!_[snp5 " Suddenly, all fell silent, a calm before the storm. Then the Uruk-Hai charged, roaring like the foul beasts they were.

"_Tangado_ _a chadad!_[snp6 " Aragorn ordered.

Haldir instantly fitted an arrow to his bow and drew the string, his chest heaving as he still struggled to swallow his fear.

"_Leithio_ _i philinn!_[snp7 "

"Duty over self," Haldir murmured, then released the first arrow.

The Marchwarden fired arrow after arrow, like a machine. Fear still clamped tightly onto his heart. Any breath could be his last. However, despite what Galadriel had told him, he still believed he could avoid this fate. Many times the mirror's "future" had been incorrect. He would prove the mirror wrong yet again. He would hold Legolas in his arms one last time under the Lothlórien stars.

Panic dropped in his stomach like a lead weight when the Uruk-Hai raised ladders. He drew his sword and licked his lips nervously. He suddenly had no time for fear; in an instant, the first Uruk was upon him, and Haldir was literally battling for his life.

Haldir fought mechanically through the masses of Uruk-Hai, hardly thinking, relying on instinct to preserve himself. He was only snapped back to reality when an enormous shockwave rocked Helm's Deep. Haldir watched in shock as a huge section of the Deeping Wall crumbled, some witchery of Saruman's. The Uruk-Hai started pouring toward the gaping opening until a band of Elves sprinted out to prevent the Uruks from breaching the wall.

How long he fought, Haldir never knew. It seemed like days. Uruk after Uruk fell to his sword, countless in number—or so it felt. The fatigue of battle was overpowering. His limbs felt like rubber, his hands ached from being contorted around his sword for so long. His breaths came in painful, ragged pants as exhaustion overtook him, but out of sheer adrenaline he fought even harder.

He was relieved when he heard Aragorn call from below him, "_Haldir! Nan barad!_[snp8 "

Haldir nodded and beckoned for his warriors to retreat, not sure whether to feel relieved or even more terrified. "_Nan_ _barad!_[snp9 " he screamed, his voice hoarse.

He glanced around to see that his Elves were retreating, then turned to go himself. There was an unexpected Uruk right in his face, and he quickly killed it with a swift swipe of his sword.

Suddenly, Haldir felt a stab of pain in his side. A strangled yell ripped out of his throat as he doubled over in agony. He lashed out with his sword to fend off the attacking Uruk, one hand clamped firmly over his wound. He felt something wet and pulled his hand away. His heart stopped. He stared in utter disbelief. There was blood on his fingertips.

He wheeled about, panicked, ready to make a mad dash for the Keep. Perhaps the wound was not as deep as it felt. Perhaps someone could bandage it, and everything would be fine, and—

Haldir stiffened in anguish as he felt steel in his back. He sank to his knees, overcome by agony and despair. He decided that this could not be happening. He had simply fallen asleep in Lórien and strayed into a nightmare. He would awaken soon, safe in his prince's arms.

The faces of fallen Elves stared up at him, glassy-eyed, seeing nothing. Immortals faced with mortality. Ironic. Elves were not even _supposed_ to die; why was it going to be his fate? The faces spun in his mind as his senses began to grow duller. He drew a soft, excruciating gasp, realizing that he had failed. Failed in his duty to Galadriel, failed Lord Elrond, failed Middle Earth itself. Failed Legolas.

Who would protect Legolas now? Who would welcome him home, who would hold him in the night? He could hardly breathe past the knot in his throat. Every agonizing gasp made his chest burn. His princeling, alone…

He felt Aragorn take hold of his shoulders, but it somehow seemed very distant. The cacophony of the battle had subsided now. Even the intense pain of his wounds was beginning to subside. The gray rain-curtain of the world rolled back, and everything took on a silver glow. He fell limply against Aragorn's shoulder as the storm of the living world diminished. He coud just barely hear a white gull wailing as he drifted into the West.

"Final count: forty-two," Legolas announced proudly.

Gimli paused to puff on his pipe before he acknowledged, "Forty-two? Oh, that's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling." Legolas grinned warmly in self-appreciation. The Dwarf smirked smugly under his beard. "I myself am sitting pretty on forty-_three_."

Legolas immediately drew an arrow and shot the Uruk on which Gimli was sitting. "Forty-three!"

"He was already dead."

"He was twitching!" Legolas said defensively.

"He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli bellowed, wiggling his axe to demonstrate.

Legolas scowled in false anger and turned to go. "Oi, where you going, lad?" Gimli demanded.

"I need a drink," Legolas answered, "and I have an appointment with a dear friend."

He picked his way through the fallen Uruks. "Haldir!" he called victoriously. "Haldir, where are you?" He stopped an Elf he recognized as Haldir's brother. "Orifice—"

"Orophin," the Elf abruptly corrected.

"…Oh. Have you seen Haldir?"

Orophin was silent for a split second before he said softly, "He fought bravely. Alas, he did not survive."

Legolas felt the color drain from his face. He shook his head softly, his mouth agape in disbelief. His entire body shook. "No. No, that cannot be true! He's not dead! He promised me that we would meet again!"

Orophin did not respond. Instead, he dipped his head, wearing a sympathetic expression.

Without a second of hesitation, Legolas dashed up the ramparts, desperately wailing Haldir's name. His heart stopped when he saw a flash of red cloak. Haldir laid face-up on top of it. His emerald eyes, once so full of adoration as well as familiar arrogance, stared blankly up at the sky, seeing nothing.

Legolas's knees gave out instantly, and he fell at Haldir's side. With a soft sob, he gathered the Marchwarden into his arms, crying into his hair, "_Haldir! Avawartho nîn! Daro a nîn!_[snp10 " He sealed his lips over Haldir's and fought desperately to revive the fallen Elf, trying to fill his lungs with air. Nothing happened.

He kissed Haldir's cold brow, tasting his own salty tears. A new wave of anguish washed over him when his fingers found the gaping wound in Haldir's back. He suddenly felt profoundly alone in the vast world. Lost.

All Legolas could do was sob. He buried his face in the Marchwarden's shoulder, gathering a fistful of red cloak in each hand. His shoulders shook violently as Haldir's smudged and dented armor became slick with tears. "_Le melon tenn_' _Ambar-metta,_[snp11 " he whimpered, gently rocking Haldir in his arms. "_Avawartho_ _nîn ave_…[snp12 "

**Epilogue: Athelas**

The fields outside Helm's Deep no longer displayed the scars of the war that had ended years before. The ashes of the pyres had been carried away on the breeze, and the simbemynë now grew thickly on the graves of the fallen.

Three months. Legolas himself would make the journey to the Gray Havens in only three months. Gimli had even agreed to accompany him. Three months until he would be safe in his Marchwarden's arms once again, in a far, green country under a swift sunrise.

Legolas held a fistful of athelas in his hand, turning the weeds slowly in the gentle wind. "You would be happy to know that I am safe," Legolas said, addressing Haldir. "I slew many of Sauron's army. I took down an Oliphaunt all by myself. I walked straight up to the Black Gate." He sighed quietly. "Ah, you should have been there. It was all very heroic. And the Dwarf? He is not as repulsive as we first thought. Though I can certainly out-drink him."

He heard Gimli shuffling up behind him and turned to look over his shoulder. "I've been calling you for hours, lad," Gimli said gruffly. "Where have you been?"

Legolas glanced at Haldir's grave, a tender expression on his face. "I felt the need to decorate the grave of an old friend," Legolas replied, tossing a sprig of athelas onto the blanket of simbelmynë.

"Kingsfoil?" Gimli questioned. "It's a weed."

Legolas smiled softly. "He is more of a weed than a flower himself."

"Elves," Gimli grumbled to himself, then shuffled off.

"Very soon, _meleth_ _nîn._ Very soon, and I will be in your arms again." Legolas laid the rest of the athelas on the grave and turned his face toward the setting sun. His smile grew as he sang softly, "What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass, a light on the water, gray ships pass into the West."

A sudden feisty simper lit Haldir's features. He immediately swept his princeling up in his arms and enveloped him in the tenderest of kisses, never wanting to let him go. He tucked a lock of blonde behind Legolas's ear and murmured in a honey-smooth baritone dripping with arrogance, "_Le ab-dollen, meleth nîn._[snp13 " He flashed his trademark smirk. "You look terrible."

* * *

[snp1There is nothing to forgive, Legolas. 

[snp2Well met, Haldir.

[snp3I love you until the ending of the world, my prince.

[snp4Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!

[snp5Hold!

[snp6Prepare to fire!

[snp7Fire arrows!

[snp8Haldir! To the Keep!

[snp9To the Keep!

[snp10Haldir! Do not leave me! Stay with me!

[snp11I love you until the ending of the world.

[snp12Do not leave me now...

[snp13You're late, my love.

* * *

**Explanation: **Um. So, I kind of twisted the whole "sailing into the West" thing as a metaphor for death. I vaguely remember reading in one of Tolkien's books that Elves who die in battle also go into the West, just like the Elves who go to the Grey Havens. In theory, then, the far, green country is basically heaven, and Legolas and Haldir would be reunited there. Granted, I really skewed the concept, but hey, I really, really didn't want to kill Haldir. Much. I apologize to any fundamentalists out there who take offense to my interpretation.

Now then, I have worked very hard creating this immense fic for your reading pleasure. Let's just say a review rate of less than 1 doesn't make me too happy. '( Please be nice; now that you've slogged through nearly 20,000 words, type a few of your own and tell me what you thought of my very first fic. I will love you for it.


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